iNeed To Finish My Song
by coffee-stained lips
Summary: Sam and Freddie write songs for each other, but neither of them have endings. Then they hear each other sing, and discover what the endings should be. Better than it sounds! A Threeshot...if there is such a thing as one.
1. Chapter 1

**tori72663 reviewed on my story **_**Super Seddie 100 Word Challenge **_**that they had an idea for a one-shot and I really liked it! But I couldn't find any words in the challenge that I could use it for, so I decided not to let such a good idea go to waste so I made a story! Hope you like it, tori72663!**

Freddie Benson sat on his bed, fiddling with his guitar. He strummed to the tune of the song he had just written, humming the words to himself. He got right to the end and sighed. The problem was he didn't _have _an end. He found the song so great and didn't want to mess it up with one stupid verse. Especially because he didn't want that verse replaying in his head whenever he saw Sam.

Yes, he had written the song for Sam Puckett. He viewed her as the most wonderful girl ever and wanted to put his feelings to paper, so he wrote a song for her. In fact, he was even planning on singing it for her. He just didn't want to mess up a good moment with a jank verse.

"Ugh!" he yelled, tossing the guitar on the bed and standing up, "I'll never get it!" He growled in frustration and banged his fist against his wall. Almost immediately Mrs. Benson, his mother, was in his room.

"Freddie!" she cried, "What was that horrible noise?!"

"Nothing!" Freddie yelled, wanting his mom to leave before she caused him even more aggravation, "I just hit the wall!"

"You shouldn't hit walls!" she shouted, "You could hurt your hand! And why do you have a pencil?!" She pointed a bony finger at his bed where a sharp-tipped pencil lay on his notebook. Freddie sighed.

"I need it to write!" he shouted as Mrs. Benson snatched the pencil away.

"Pencils are pointy and could give you splinters!" she yelled, "Now, wait here while I get you a nice crayon!" She then left Freddie in pursuit of a crayon. Freddie sighed angrily and grabbed another pencil from inside his desk drawer. He wrote the new words that had just popped to mind on his notebook. Then he took his guitar in hand and strummed to the new beat he thought up.

"'I wanna hold you tight and kiss in the rain'_._" he sang, "'Then you'd punch me and smile like you do. Sounds really odd, but it's what I want. I wanna hug you and kiss you and shampoo your pretty hair. Pretty hair'."

_Wow, that's lame! _he thought, _I sound like Oliver Oken with Hannah Montana. _He took the pencil and erased the words feverishly.

"Freddie!" his mom screamed as she arrived back in the room.

"Mom, it's not even sharp!"

Little did Freddie Benson know, as his mom lectured him on safety, Sam Puckett was doing the same thing he was in the iCarly studio. Guitar in her arms, she softly played the song she was writing for a certain tech-nerd. And, like Freddie, she couldn't find a good ending.

"'Baby, why'd you have to go and make me this way'?" she sang, "'I don't even know if you even love me. Why can't I just say I love you? I need you, and I wish for you to need me'!" She stopped and sighed. They were good words but used so much. She scraped the needing part from her mind and tried to think of a new verse.

"'Baby, why'd you have to go and make me this way'?" she sang, "'I don't even know if you even love me. Why can't I just say I love you?' Dang!" She stopped singing because she had no words and threw the guitar down. What was the use? Freddie wouldn't like her even if she did get a great ending. Why would he love a girl who constantly made him look like a fool?


	2. Chapter 2

Freddie, having finally escaped his mother, decided to break from his song and visit Carly. Perhaps a small chat would soothe his irritation and get him back on track. However, Carly appeared not to be home when he opened the apartment door. He called her name but received no answer.

_Wonder where she is? _he thought, but Carly left his mind as he heard singing from above. It was beautiful singing and he felt hypnotized by it. The voice was soft and familiar…as he dug deeper into the sound he realized who the singer must be.

"Sam?" he called, bounding up the staircase. He looked into the glass part of the door and saw the blonde sitting on the car that protruded from the wall, a guitar in her hand and her mouth moving as she sang. _Wow, Sam's good! _he thought, _Is there anything she can't do? _He smiled at her perfectness as he opened the door to the studio.

Sam looked up at the door to see Freddie and shut her mouth quickly. She didn't want him listening to her song. She wasn't sure if he'd detect something in the way she sang it with him nearby. He grinned at her, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

"Was that you?" he asked.

"Yeah." she replied, "Got a problem with it, nub?"

"No. It's just...wow." he said, "I didn't think you could sing so…well." He thought she was a good singer? _Whoa, _she thought joyfully.

"Thanks, Freddichini." she said. Freddie walked over and sat next to her on the car. She turned her body to face him.

"Would you…sing for me?" he asked. Sam really wanted to, but the only song she could think of was hers and she didn't want him to hear it.

"Nah…" she said. He nudged her playfully.

"Ah, c'mon." he said, "You're good." She smiled at his words and started strumming to her song.

"'I lay my head down to rest, but no rest comes to me.'" she sang, "'Place the blankets over me, but I ain't sleepin'. Your image comes to mind as I beg for sleep. Your eyes twinkle and you smile down at me.'" Her voice was soothing and enticing. Freddie felt overcome by her singing. This girl was perfect in his mind, and her ability to sing so marvelously only added to her wonderfulness. He knew Sam wasn't perfect (no one was), but she was everything that equaled perfect to him. He wanted desperately to kiss her right then, just lay his lips on hers, but he knew he couldn't do that. Besides, the moment was incredible without a kiss, even if Sam didn't feel the same.

"'Baby, why'd you have to go and make me this way?'" she continued to sing, "'I don't even know if you even love me. Why can't I just say I love you?'…that's all I got, Freddieo."

"What do you mean?" Freddie asked.

"I don't have an ending to that verse." she explained, sounding defeated, "I've been trying for hours but I can't think of anything."

"Don't worry." Freddie said, placing a hand on her shoulder and she shivered, "It's still good. In fact, it was brilliant." Sam blushed and grinned. _If only he knew it's about him. _she thought. She gazed at him and he stared back at her, unblinking. She felt herself lean forward a little towards him. She could feel her breathing quicken as she steadily leaned. She was going so slow it was possible Freddie didn't even notice she was leaning. He probably didn't, for he said, "I gotta get home or my mom will have a fit." Sam, disappointed, nodded and moved into her old position as Freddie stood.

"Catch you later, Fredbag." she said, waving him off.

"See you." he said, waving too and leaving.

As he walked down to his apartment he whistled Sam's song to himself. He liked it all, the first few words especially. As he replayed the first verse, he remembered the last verse to his song and an idea sparked. He then ran to his room, grabbed the black crayon his mother had given him, and wrote her first words next to his last.

"'I wanna hold you tight and kiss in the rain. Then you'd punch me and smile like you do. Sounds really odd, but it's what I want. When I think of you I can't do nothin' else and I lay my head down to rest, but no rest comes to me. To me.'" he sang. Then he smiled. _Perfect, _he thought.

Sam was about to try for another verse when she noticed a pen on the floor. She picked it up and saw FREDWARD BENSON written on it. _It must've fallen out of Freddie's pocket_, she thought. Placing it in her pocket, she walked down to Freddie's apartment.

She neared the apartment and her fist was inches from collision with the door when a song floated out from behind it. "'I wish this was just a game that we play. Wish we could stop whenever we wanted. But we can't do that, 'cause it's not a game. I know we fight and it seems like I don't care but truth be told I may be the only one. Only one.'" came through the door. Sam felt herself swaying in tune with the song. She grinned and closed her eyes, for the song made her feel nice and tranquil. She realized this must be Freddie singing. As she listened to it, she realized the first line of his song would go fantastically as the last line in hers. She hummed it to herself.

_Baby, why'd you have to go and make me this way? _she sang in her head, _I don't even know if you even love me. Why can't I just say I love you? I wish this was just a game that we play. _As she finished humming, she knew it was a perfect fit.


	3. Chapter 3

**I just wanted to point out that these songs are wholly and completely mine. I wrote them and placed them on this site. I just wanted to tell you, in case you tried looking it up on iTunes 'cause it's not there. Maybe if one of my friends becomes a famous singer he'll/she'll sing one of these and I'll earn lots of moolah (money)!**

Freddie sat at the bottom of the staircase in school, morosely looking at his sheet music. He had chickened out of playing his song to Sam; he was deathly afraid it would go wrong. He kept telling himself it would be okay, that she would love it, but he still had doubt in his brain as these encouraging thoughts pushed through. Sighing, he lifted himself up and walked into the nearest classroom. He needed desperately to be alone.

He had landed inside an empty music room; perfect. He saw a wooden guitar lying against the wall, waiting to be played. He looked outside the door; no one was watching or coming. He took the guitar in hand. Then he took a stand, placed the sheet music on it, and played.

The music calmed his heartbeat and nerves. He looked quickly out the door again: the hall near the room was still empty enough. He laid his brown eyes back on the paper and sang to nobody:

_I wish this was just a game that we play._

_Wish we could stop whenever we wanted._

_But we can't do that, 'cause it's not a game._

_I know we fight and it seems like I don't care_

_But truth be told I may be the only one. Only one._

_They say love is a hug and a kiss, but I'd rather take a punch from your fist._

_It don't make sense to me anymore._

_But love makes no sense._

_It makes you cry when you wanna laugh._

_Makes you scream at the one who makes you smile._

_Makes you sad, makes you mad, makes you glad, and even crazy._

_Love makes no sense, but it makes enough to me._

_They say love is a fickle thing._

_You can't choose who to love, who to not._

_But I'd pick you over any other girl._

_I take all the hits and words you throw at me_

'_Cause I love every minute of it. Of it_

_They say love is a hug and a kiss, but I'd rather take a punch from your fist._

_It don't make sense to me anymore._

_But love makes no sense._

_It makes you cry when you wanna laugh._

_Makes you scream at the one who makes you smile._

_Makes you sad, makes you mad, makes you glad, and even crazy._

_Love makes no sense, but it makes enough to me._

_I wanna hold you tight and kiss in the rain._

_Then you'd punch me and smile like you do._

_Sounds really odd, but it's what I want._

_When I think of you can't do nothin' else _

_And I lay my head down to rest, but no rest comes to me. To me_

_They say love is a hug and a kiss, but I'd rather take a punch from your fist._

_It don't make sense to me anymore._

_But love makes no sense._

_It makes you cry when you wanna laugh._

_Makes you scream at the one who makes you smile._

_Makes you sad, makes you mad, makes you glad, and even crazy._

_Love makes no sense, but it makes enough to me._

He set the guitar down by the door. He heaved a great breath. He may not have played it for Sam, but he felt greatly relieved that he had played it. He looked up at the ceiling and said "I dedicate that to you, Sam."

Sam backed away from the music room, surprised beyond any type of surprise. That song…that beautiful song…was written for her by Freddie, whom she had written hers for. Her breathing increased as she repeated in her head _Impossible. Impossible. No way, impossible._

She wanted to burst in there and tell him how she felt. In fact, her hand was gripping the doorknob so tightly her knuckles had turned positively white. But, instead of running at him to embrace him, she ran to her locker, which was located far away from the music room.

She stood, back against her locker, heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She remembered the words that had passed through his lips clearly and couldn't stop them from replaying in her brain over and over and over…

Before she knew it, she realized she was singing her song to him in the deserted hallway:

_I lay my head down to rest, but no rest comes to me._

_Place the blankets over me, but I ain't sleepin'._

_Your image comes to mind as I beg for sleep._

_Your eyes twinkle and you smile down at me._

_And now I can't sleep, 'cause I'm thinkin' about you._

_Can't sleep, 'cause your eyes are lookin' at me._

_You hypnotize me, and now_

_I can't sleep, 'cause I'm thinkin' about you._

_I drink a bunch of warm milk, but my eyes are still open._

_Try countin' herds of sheep, but your voice keeps me awake._

_You speak to me so sweetly as I close my eyes._

_You sing to me and I listen from up high._

_And now I can't sleep, 'cause I'm thinkin' about you._

_Can't sleep, 'cause your eyes are lookin' at me._

_You hypnotize me, and now_

_I can't sleep, 'cause I'm thinkin' about you._

_Baby, why'd you have to go and make me this way?_

_I don't even know if you even love me._

_Why can't I just say I love you?_

_I wish this was just a game that we play._

_And now I can't sleep, 'cause I'm thinkin' about you._

_Can't sleep, 'cause your eyes are lookin' at me._

_You hypnotize me, and now_

_I can't sleep, 'cause I'm thinkin' about you._

"For you, Freddie." she said to the air. _I feel like I'm in a musical_, she thought disgustedly as she looked around the empty hall. She heard a gasp and whipped her head to stare…at Freddie.

Her face was red, she knew it. But she knew she'd face him eventually, and at least she had sung to him. In a way.

"Sam?" he said, plainly dumbstruck, "Does that mean…?"

"Yes, Fredlumps." she said, "I like you. I like you _a lot_." They stared at each other, unspeaking, for a long while. When other students started coming in from their free periods at the library and gym, the two moved closer to each so not to be detected.

"In your song…" Freddie said, "The last line of your last verse…it was the first line in my first verse."

"Oh…yeah…" Sam said, slightly embarrassed, "I was going to return your pen when I heard you singing. It went perfectly with my song and…I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Freddie said, "I don't want an apology, Sam. I'm glad you did it. I mean, I did the same thing with yours."

"Oh, right!" Sam said, "You _did _steal from me too, didn't you?"

"Sam, wording it like that really ruins the moment." Freddie said, grinning. Sam grinned too.

"So…" she said, "Want to hang out later?"

"Sure." Freddie said, "As what?" He was implying that he wanted to know how their situation affected their relationship

"I think you know." Sam said slyly. They moved close together and shared a kiss.

It was a beautiful kiss, almost as good as their first. When they pulled away, Freddie knew. And Sam knew. And every kid at Ridgeway knew, for they were staring. Freddie noticed and said, "Uh, Sam? People are starting to stare."

"Let 'em stare." Sam said, and she and Freddie went into another kiss.


End file.
